


It's my feeling we'll win in the end

by JuliaBaggins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Memory Loss, Misunderstandings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27567637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaBaggins/pseuds/JuliaBaggins
Summary: “I’m here. I’m hurt, can you let me in?”It actually is Cas who calls Dean and then appears in front of the door, and Dean can't believe his luck.Until he notices that something about Cas is not as it should be.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 20
Kudos: 175





	It's my feeling we'll win in the end

**Author's Note:**

> So, here I am, writing SPN FF in the year of our lord 2020 - who would have thought! Falling back in love with this show certainly was a surprise, but a most pleasant one, and while watching 15x19 (And btw what even was this?? The final better clear some things up!) I had the idea for this little AU. Have fun reading! 💕

Dean’s phone rang, and it was as if the sound reached him from oh so far away, through a thick fog that had started to cloud his entire existence. Everything just seemed so… pointless, and even the movement of his head to glance down at his phone seemed like too much of an effort. What could it matter anyways? But the phone continued to ring, loud in a way that Dean couldn’t ignore, and he finally fixed his attention on it, even if it was just to turn it off, to be able to get lost in a deafening silence again.

And then, his heart skipped a beat. Or three.

“What?”, he mumbled, because this couldn’t be true, and at the same time, he never had wished for anything as much.

He answered the phone, “Cas?”, a question, a hope, a prayer.

“Dean”, and that was his voice, his voice whose last words would never leave Dean’s heart again, and he was speaking, was alive, and Dean’s mind was jumping in somersaults, because nothing made sense anymore.

And then, Cas’ voice continued talking, and Dean’s entire being focused on one task.

“I’m here. I’m hurt, can you let me in?”

Dean didn’t quite notice standing up, getting to the stairs, he just knew he was running, as fast as he could and yet not fast enough, and then, finally, he reached the door. Paused, just a second, his heart wanting to burst out of his chest with fear, joy, possibilities.

With a careful movement, he opened the door, and there stood Cas. Cas, trench coat, messy hair, blue eyes, he was _there_ , and Dean could have drowned in his happiness, hadn't it been for the fact that right after the split second it took him to take in Cas (Cas, his Cas, alive alive _alive_ ), the angel collapsed into his arms.

And Dean hated it, but his life had taught him to always expect the worst, so his first thought while catching Cas’ weight in his arms was that it's a joke. That Chuck pulled another of his sick shenanigans. Bringing Cas back, only to have him die in Dean's arms. And while the last days were desperation, emptiness, his heart an empty shell inside his chest, that would have _ended_ him, burned his heart right out of him to leave behind nothing but ashes.

Cas couldn’t die. He _couldn't_. And that was exactly the reason why Dean's heart seized in fear. Because Chuck knew this. Knew him. Knew them. Probably knew Dean's own feelings better than Cas did, hell, better than he _himself_ had, until mere days ago, and while the second of those things was annoying, the first made Dean tempted to burn down heaven, earth and all that ever had been created, if he'd just get a chance to let Cas know what Chuck surely did. What Dean himself slowly came to realize. What Dean probably always had known.

“Cas?”, he asked, carefully lowering both of them to the floor, until Cas was cradled safely in his arms, his face looking up at Dean, eyes closed.

There was a wound at the side of his neck, and Dean could feel blood seeping into his jeans, so Cas had to be hurt even worse, and his voice on the phone had sounded so weak-

“Hello Dean.”

Cas’ lips moved before his eyelids fluttered open, and when their eyes met, bright blue drowning in deep green, a brilliant smile lit up Cas’s features.

Dean was unsure of what to do, to _say_ , because there were so many words he wishes he’d have said, so many things he needed Cas to know, and yet his angel was hurt, he didn’t even know how bad, so he couldn’t, not yet. So instead, he placed a hand on Cas’ chest, felt his heart beating, and when Sam cleared his throat, Dean had no idea how long he already had stood there.

“Maybe it would be better to get him somewhere..”, he trailed off, but Dean got him. The cold floor right behind the bunker’s door certainly wasn’t the best place for anyone, especially not his angel, and least of all when he was hurt. 

He nodded, his eyes never once leaving Cas’ face.

“Hey”, he whispered, earning another smile, “Do you think you can walk?”

“Yes, I’m sure it’ll be fine”, and that didn’t sound most convincing, but Dean decided that they’d try.

So he slung an arm around Cas’ middle, feeling the wetness at his back, and helped him to his feet. Cas leaned heavily on him, but together, they made it down the stairs, Sam walking in front of them, ready to catch Cas should he stumble. He didn’t, Dean holding him close, and slowly, they walked down. And it wasn’t much of a conscious decision, going to Dean’s room, it just happened to be close, and so, Dean was faced with Cas, sitting exhausted down onto his bed, while Sam got some towels and the first aid kit from the bathroom.

When their eyes met, a smile played around Cas’ lips, and it was tired, barely there, but Dean never had seen something as beautiful. The anxiety still was there, in the back of his mind – about Chuck, Cas’ wounds, everything. But it was overshadowed, or rather overlighted; the darkness not standing a chance against the brightness of Cas’ smile.

“How?”, Dean asked, because seeing Cas smile at him again, that seemed like nothing short of a miracle.

Instead of an answer, Cas only shook his head, and before Dean could further investigate, Sam was there, so together, they helped Cas out of his trench coat. The back of it was drenched in blood, and Dean swore to himself that he’d do whatever he could to get those stains out, so Cas could once again wear it, feel at home in it. His fingers slightly trembled as he buttoned open Cas’ shirt, gently ushered him to turn around. Sam then cleaned up Cas’ back, careful and yet unable to avoid causing the angel to flinch, Dean having to bite his teeth together, hard. 

“It’s not too deep, I think you’ll be okay without stitches”, Sam told Cas, shortly clutching his hand before wrapping his back in bandages and gently putting a band aid on his neck. 

“Thank you, Sam”, and Cas yawned, which Sam took as his cue to raise.

Dean did so too, following his brother to the door, where Sam leaned in close, whispering: “How? How is he back? What happened?”

“I, I don’t know. He didn’t say anything, and his back, that’s like, where his wings should be, but I don’t- I have no idea. But, he’s back. Cas is _back_ ”, and somehow saying it out loud seemed to make it real, Dean’s knees nearly buckling underneath him at the weight of that sentence.

Sam nodded, without a word but with so much understanding in his eyes, and Dean thought of how his baby brother always had been the smart one of them. He leaned in for a quick hug, and then wished Sam a good night, turning back to the bed. Where Cas, still shirtless and with his pants and shoes on, had curled himself up and fallen asleep. Dean’s heart did a funny little jump at that sight, and he carefully put off Cas’ shoes, placing them next to the bed, before he grabbed his warmest blanket and wrapped it tightly around the sleeping man. After a moment of consideration, he then sat down at the edge of the bed, his back to the wall, and watched Cas’ sleeping face. The whole night. And maybe there was its own kind of irony to that, Dean watching over his guardian angel sleep, but he didn’t think of it. As for the first time in days, in all the terrible endless seeming hours since he had lost Cas, his mind found peace.

When Cas stirred in the morning, Dean immediately woke from the slumber he had fallen into not long before, his whole attention on the angel. Cas yawned, sat up, and then his eyes found Dean, lighting up in his face that looked so much healthier than it had done the previous day.

“Hi”, Dean whispered, careful, as if Cas was an illusion, a daydream that could be chased by a too loud word.

But he wasn’t.

“Hello”, and Cas’ hand brushed Dean’s on top of the blankets, his fingers warm, and there, and alive, Dean’s brain still singing in joy faced with that.

And he had thought a lot about it, about the best way to do this, about all the big words that Cas certainly deserved. But here, sitting together with Cas in his own bed, blue eyes bright and hair sleep tousled; his back hurting from a night of sitting against the wall and his feet cold after giving Cas the good blanket, Dean thought about how he couldn’t think of a more beautiful way to wake up. And about how there was no time to lose, not when things finally felt _right_ again, with Cas by his side.

“I love you.”

The words tasted foreign on Dean’s tongue, and yet saying them to Cas felt like coming home. And he had expected Cas to smile, had dreamed of his smile before waking up in loneliness and regrets, but… not like this. There was a hesitance to Cas’ smile, nearly a sadness, it was not nearly as bright as when he had bared his own heart to Dean. And Dean didn’t understand.

"I know, and I you too, of course I do, we're family", and Cas leaned over, hugged Dean, but it was.. careful, not really tight, not _emotional_ , in the way that they had hugged long before Dean had understood what it meant, the way that letting Cas step back from his arms seemed to physically hurt.

And the hug was not followed by any more touching (which Dean might have expected, might have hoped for), Cas even took his hand back from where his fingers had bushed Dean’s, and the hunter could not remember ever being as confused. He tried not to be disappointed at Cas’ lack of words, he already had said so much, so much more than Dean deserved, but at the same time, he’d have expected some kind of.. happiness. Judged by Cas’ words, even surprise. Because it had seemed as if he hadn’t known, hadn’t been aware, and now, when Dean told him that he loved him too, which had seemed to be what Cas dreamed of, what he didn’t dare to dream of, he spoke of _family_. As if they hadn’t finally figured out that it was something else that they both dreamed of. Something more.

So Dean was.. confused. And, even more so scared. Of having gotten it wrong, somehow, even though that didn’t seem possible. Of being too late.

But then again, Cas just got back from the empty, went through Chuck knows what to do so, and maybe it was too soon. So Dean decided to give him time, to try, even though it took him everything he had to stand up and not grab Cas, to hold him close again but this time, to never let him go.

Instead, Dean stood up, took a shower, and came back to Cas standing in the middle of the room, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. Cas’ chest wasn’t bare anymore, but instead, he had put on a faded Led Zeppelin shirt that Dean remembered having worn a few days ago, and somehow, that was so much worse. Because it looked as if Cas belonged in it. In Dean’s clothes, like he did in Dean’s life, and, even more so, in Dean’s heart. Had been for so long already, longer than even Dean had known

“Cas. Talk to me. _Please_.”

Dean heard the desperation in his own words, but he didn’t care. Not when joy and fear turned into puzzlement, and when Cas looked at him just as confused. 

“About what should we talk?”, and his voice was kind, of course it was, he was an angel after all (Dean’s angel, an unhelpful voice in the back of his mind submitted), but he didn’t sound like Dean did expect him to ever since he had lost him, had dreamed of getting him back. For he didn’t sound like he had when he told Dean that he loved him. Didn’t sound like someone in love, and even less so, like someone who just had learned that they’re loved back.

And Dean couldn't take it anymore. He walked up to Cas, cornered him, and hissed through his teeth: "What you said to me. Before being t-taken away. Did you mean that? Or was that all a li-, just made up?"

"Dean?", Cas’ blue eyes were widened in even more confusion, and that just managed to make Dean angrier. As if Cas wouldn't know exactly what he was talking about. As if he wouldn't know exactly that those three words he had said had totally tilted Dean's world off its axis.

"Did you fucking mean it??"

"Mean what?"

 _"Cas"_ , and with that, all of the anger left Dean, as his voice broke on one syllable.

"Dean, please. I don't know what you are talking about."

"You said you loved me. You said it, like, like, as if you would, _love_ me, and I-"

"I said _what_ ", and Cas' voice was trembling while he took a step back, away from Dean, until his back hit the wall.

Dean only noticed that he was crying when he heard the tears choking his own voice.

"You, you don't remember?"

Cas shook his head, and Dean felt the ground slip away from beneath his feet.

"You, you don't, oh my God no, and I- forgive me please, I wouldn't have, if I'd known-"

"Known what?"

"That you don't remember."

"Hm. I, I don't. When?”

“As Billie chased us. When you s-summoned the empty. To save me. You told me about the deal you made, and about the happiness, and you talked about me, as if-“

Understanding began to dawn on Cas’ face.

 _“Oh._ The deal, of course. I get it now.”

“You do?”

“Yes. It makes sense, really, how could it have been any different? But I didn’t know. I woke up in the empty, and I remembered us fighting against Billie, and I.. I don't know how I ended up there, or how I got back for that matter, only that I was glad that you weren't there. And at the same time, I felt as if there was.. something missing."

"Something?", the hope in Dean's chest cut deeper than the fear earlier had.

"Someone."

"Cas-"

"Dean, listen to me-"

"Please, don't-"

"Dean Winchester. _Listen_ ", Cas placed his hand on Dean's shoulder, the left one, and his touch seemed to burn through Dean's skin.

"Yes?"

"So. I don't remember what I told you exactly. And I'm sorry that I don't. But, answer me one question. Do you think that that means that it isn't true?"

"I, I don't know. When I said to you, you know, and you said it's like family, I thought-"

"I thought it was what you meant. I thought it was what I could have."

"And what if it isn't?"

"Dean", and Cas' brilliant blue gaze was grazed by tears.

"Dammit Cas, I'm not as good as you with words here, but-", and with that, Dean reached forward, grabbed Cas' tie and yanked him close, until their noses were nearly touching.  
Cas went with the movement, let himself be drawn close with a little surprised gasp, and then raised an eyebrow when Dean just.. stopped.

Dean could feel Cas' breath on his skin, on his _lips_ , felt his heartbeat under his hand where it still grabbed his tie, and with his other hand, he touched Cas' cheek, gently, oh so gently. His cheek was rough, stubbled, and just the feeling of it against his palm caused Dean's heart to race faster than his baby on a free road with an emergency case calling.

"Cas. Castiel. Can I kiss you?"

“Yes”, Cas breathed, and Dean drank that word in by softly pressing his lips to Cas’.

It was a short first kiss, no tongue or wandering hands involved, and yet, Dean couldn’t remember a single meeting of lips ever leaving him as breathless. And, judged by his nervous little laugh, Cas wasn’t feeling much different. Dean leaned his forehead against his angel’s, and slid an arm around his hip, as if they were about to dance. But he just held him close, Cas’ own hands linking behind Dean’s head, his fingers settling in still slightly wet hair.

“I love you”, Dean said, in a low voice and yet with all of his heart in it, “Cas, I love you, I love you, I love you so much.”

“Dean, look at me”, and Dean would follow that voice to hell and back, so he opened his eyes.

To find Cas looking at him, his eyes widened in wonder, in happiness, in _love_. And that, that was the expression that Dean had dreamed of. That he had feared to never experience, had expected to see earlier that morning, and that he now knew he’d never let go again.

Cas’ fingers tightened in Dean’s hair, and before leaning in for another kiss, he whispered “I’m yours.”

Dean found no time to answer, since Cas’ lips already were on his again, but when Dean let his tongue glide over the angel’s bottom lip, when he buried a hand in Cas’ soft hair while the other pressed their hips closer together, and when the closer contact caused him to moan into the kiss, it all screamed _Mine mine mine_.

And Dean still didn’t know how Cas had managed to get back to him, which heavenly or sinister (or both, those two seemed to overlap too often) forces might have had a hand in that. And he had no idea how Cas had lost a part of his memories, how he got hurt, what it all meant, _if_ there even was a meaning to it. Or what they would do next, about the two of them but also about Chuck, the empty, the world. 

But it didn’t matter. 

In that moment, when Cas softly sighed into their kiss, nothing else mattered. For Cas was here, in Dean’s arms, where he belonged. 

And Dean understood it oh so well, how Cas had felt his true happiness. 

Only that in this case, having proved to be even more beautiful than being.

**Author's Note:**

> My title comes from the song "Don't you forget about me" by the Simple Minds 🎵; Thanks to Ceci for suggesting that one! 🤗
> 
> If you liked this story, please be so kind to leave me a comment, it would mean a lot! ❤️


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